“Stop! Easy!” commanded Chelkash.

The boat’s nose knocked against the hull of the vessel. “Are they asleep, the devils?” grumbled Chelkash, catching with his boat-hook on to some ropes that hung over the ship’s side. “Hey! Let down the ladder! And this rain, too. As if it couldn’t have come before! Hi, you sponges! Hi! Hi!”

“Is that Selkash?” they heard a soft purring voice say overhead.

“Come, let down the ladder.”

“Kalimera, Selkash.”

“Let down the ladder, you smoked devil!” roared Chelkash.

“Ah, how angry he is today. Ahoy!”

“Get up, Gavrila!” Chelkash said to his companion.

In a moment they were on the deck, where three dark-bearded figures, eagerly chattering together in a strange sibilant tongue, looked over the side into Chelkash’s boat. The fourth, clad in a long gown, went up to him and pressed his hand without speaking, then looked suspiciously round at Gavrila.

“Get the money ready for me by the morning,” Chelkash said to him shortly. “And now I’ll go to sleep. Gavrila, come along! Are you hungry?”

“I’m sleepy,” answered Gavrila, and five minutes later he was snoring in the dirty hold of the vessel, while Chelkash, sitting beside him, tried on somebody’s boots. Dreamily spitting to one side, he whistled mournfully between his teeth. Then he stretched himself out beside Gavrila, his hands under his head, and twitching his mustaches.

The vessel rocked softly on the frolicking water, there was a fretful creaking of wood somewhere, the rain pattered softly on the deck, and the waves splashed on the ship’s side. Everything was melancholy and sounded like the lullaby of a mother, who has no hope of her child’s happiness.…

Chelkash, showing his teeth, lifted his head, looked around, and whispering something to himself, lay down again.…His legs wide apart, he looked like a pair of large scissors.

III

He was the first to wake, he looked round him uneasily, but at once regained his self-possession and stared at Gavrila who was still asleep. He was sweetly snoring, and in his sleep smiled all over his childish, sunburned, healthy face. Chelkash sighed and climbed up the narrow rope-ladder. Through the port- hole he saw a leaden strip of sky. It was daylight, but a dreary autumn grayness.

Chelkash came back two hours later. His face was red, his mustaches curled up jauntily. He was wearing a pair of stout high boots, a short jacket, and leather breeches, and he looked like a sportsman. His whole costume was worn, but strong, and very becoming to him, making him look broader, covering up his angularity, and giving him a military air.

“Hi, little calf, get up!” He gave Gavrila a kick.

Gavrila started up, and, not recognizing him, stared at him in alarm with dull eyes. Chelkash guffawed.

“Well, you do look—” Gavrila brought out with a broad grin at last. “You’re quite a gentleman!”